Talent
by Tawnykit
Summary: I've got a talent for finding people with talent. Normally, there's not a whole lot to find. That New Years Eve was different.


Disclaimer: If I owned _High School Musical_, I'd be filthy rich and laughing at you from my Jacuzzi. As it is, I don't even have a Jacuzzi.

A/N: I studied the karaoke scene many, many times to get this right. I like how it turned out; how 'bout you?

* * *

I've got a talent for finding people with talent. 

It's why the lodge bothers to keep me employed. Whenever there's some kind of party, like this New Years one happening tonight, I'm the one who manages to keep the kids – sorry, _young adults_ – entertained.

My name is David Johnson, but I go by D.J. – D.J. by name, dj by nature, you could say. When there's no party, I run one of the ski lifts, but you don't care about that.

Where was I? Oh yeah... The New Years Eve party.

It's been going on for almost an hour now, and man, I can't wait for it to be over. I'm running the karaoke contest, same as always, and while there hasn't been anyone awful on the stage yet – if I can spot talent, I can spot the lack thereof from a mile away – but, well, let's just say the performers so far have all been mediocre at best. It's rare to find someone truly spectacular, but hey, a guy can hope, can't he?

The current pair, a couple of snowboarders who at least knew what "being on key" means, came to the end of their duet, and my eyes follow the spotlight as it searches around the room for my next victims. Er, I mean, singers.

No... No... Oh, _definitely_ not that one, he looks like he thinks a sonata is a type of car... I step off the stage to get closer to them, feeling my hopes sink. It looks like I've just about run out of decent contestants.

And then I see them.

Near the edge of the stage, a blond-haired boy is leaning against one of the poles that supports the ceiling above our heads. Halfway across the room, a girl about his age, maybe sophomore in high school, sits hunched up on a couch, her nose buried in a book. My sixth sense – or whatever you want to call it – is giving me a tap on the shoulder. They're the ones.

I signal to the spotlight crew. They give me an affirmative nod and shine the lights at the indicated teens.

The boy's eyes widen as the spotlight falls on him; he holds up his hands and protests against the eager crowd that thrusts him up on the stage, trying to resist their shoves. It doesn't do any good.

The girl isn't even given that chance; she blinks like a deer in headlights as the bright spotlight shines in her eyes, emitting only a few startled squeaks as I take her by the hand and lead her up beside her new partner.

The two are looking nervously out at the crowd; I can see pure terror in the girl's eyes. I almost feel sorry for her – maybe I was wrong? Could I have made a mistake this time? I mean, everyone's got to make a mistake once in a while, right?

Nah...

"Hey, you know what?" I say as I step up beside them, handing my mike to the boy. "Someday? Someday you guys might thank me for this." Seeing the disbelief in their eyes, I add a reassuring, "Or not."

The music starts, and the boy grasps his microphone apprehensively, shooting a glance at his companion. She's staring at the sea of people before her, hugging herself and no doubt wishing that she could sink into the floor.

That would change. It always did.

The first part flashes on the lyrics screen above them. The boy slides the mike into the stand, takes a deep breath, and begins to sing.

I nod to myself in satisfaction. He's got a good voice, the best I'd heard so far tonight. He could use a little confidence, of course, but that will come as he gets further into the song.

"_...that anything can happen_," he sings, "_when you take a chance..._" You bet it can, buddy. I nod again; this is going to be interesting.

Finished for now with his part, the boy turns away from the mike, looking as if he's debating the merits of hopping off of the stage right then and there.

Anxiously, I take a quick look at the girl. She's still hugging herself, and the frightened look hasn't left her eyes. She's going to need more than just a little confidence to pull this off. Come on, honey...

And then she starts to sing.

...Wow.

I've heard a lot of good singers in my day, but she's... wow.

I can see that I'm not the one who's surprised. The boy has frozen, a look of awe on his face. Coming to his senses, he turns back to the microphone in time to add an "_ohh..._" to the end of one of his partner's lines.

And just like that, they're fine. A shy smile has spread across the girl's face, and the boy looks pleasantly surprised. He takes his coat off as he picks up the second verse, warming up to the song. They're both enjoying themselves now; you can see it in their eyes and hear it in the way they sing, echoing each other and throwing in more "_ohhs_" for effect.

Even the crowd, musically inept as they are, can hear it now. They begin clapping in time to the music, and I can hear a few cheers of encouragement above the duo's voices.

As for the singers themselves, all trace of nerves has vanished. They're moving their bodies to the music, singing for all their worth. The boy steps closer to the girl; startled, she backpedals, and might have fallen off the stage had helping hands from the crowd below not caught her.

Her companion backs off, look properly apologetic, but soon steps closer again, and this time she's not afraid. As the refrain echoes around the room, I smile broadly, listening.

"_This could be the start  
__Of something new.  
__It feels so right  
__To be here with you, o__hh..._

_And now,  
__Looking in your eyes  
__I feel in my heart...  
__The start of something new..."_

What _have_ I started?

The duet slowly comes to an end,the singers staring at each other in amazement. As I step onto the stage, holding out my hands and clapping to congratulate them, the boy extends his hand to her.

"Troy," I hear him say above the crowd's cheers. Looking a little shy again, the girl accepts the offered hand, shaking it and introducing herself. "Gabriella."

They hop off the stage. I watch them as Gabriella recovers her book and Troy gets them both a mug of cocoa from one of the refreshment tables. They head outside, chatting enthusiastically, and my smile grows.

They're going to be all right.


End file.
